


Tripping

by spyfodder



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M, i really don't know how this started, there was an attempt, wow characterization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-23 02:55:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2531495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spyfodder/pseuds/spyfodder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Knockout really wasn't expecting a dragon to follow him home. </p><p>*Updated in progression*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Caught

**Author's Note:**

> THIS WAS UNEXPECTED. Possibly art inspired, I don't know. These idiots won't leave me alone.
> 
> Feedback encouraged. There's more written, I just have no idea if this was a good idea.
> 
> Also, as usual, inclusion of particular fleshies because I love them.

It wasn't his fault he got terribly bored. The lack of willing and worthy racing opponents on the slowly repopulating Cybertron was a bit disheartening, so when the need to spin his wheels came around, Ratchet wound up with a one line message in his in-box, and Knockout absent from his medibay. 

Tooling about in a smooth area for a while, Knockout was finding the repeating scenery almost tiresome. Being back on Cybertron was amazing, a miracle, but there were at times Knockout desired the array of colors that had been foliage and shifting skies on Earth. 

Processor lost in thought as he cruised through the slowly recovering crystal farms, a sudden fluctuation in his scanners caught his attention. Knockout adjusted his wheels, curiosity instantly winning him over. It was rare to find any mech outside of the tiny clusters of city population, so the discovery of friend or foe was tantalizing. 

It was a five minute drive later that Knockout came across a sight that cracked through his spark, the autoformer screeching to a halt far enough away to prevent his own detection. 

Rogue bots, looking to be bounty hunters or scavengers, swarmed around a weakly thrashing and struggling Predaking. The great mechabeast had succumbed to a multitude of high-power shock rods, power whips and energy dampening lines that had been thrown in bright blue, crisscrossing lines over Predaking, effectively taming him in a cruel manner. 

Despite his penchant for being a bit of a sadist, the sight of such a huge and notably noble mech being mistreated sent a spike of rage through Knockout's core. He had not known Predaking well during his time on the Nemesis, but it was the knowledge of their shared employment relation and wretched past that spurred Knockout to unfold to his pedes, unsheathing his upgraded shock rod, claws tightening angrily around the weapon as he charged forward without a thought. 

//Ratchet, queue up a ground bridge, we're going to have a guest... and make sure the receiving room is cleared out.//

Knockout ignored any further correspondence from the other medic, battle instinct taking over as he snuck up behind one bot, slamming the business end of his rod into the lower back struts of the unsuspecting mech who was commanding a dampening line. The bot crumpled without knowing what hit him, Knockout snatching up the pommel of the line, shaking it off the body of Predaking, appropriating it for his own use.

Knowing the moment was not right for goading shouts against his enemies, especially since he didn't call for backup, Knockout worked swiftly and silently, growling softly only when some of the rogue mechs noticed him. He made quick work of them, dispatching of the sparkless scrap fodder, whittling them down from fifteen to six in no time. Brutal they may have been, but they were no match for Knockout's agile battle experience.

The last six finally turned their attention from Predaking to the small red mech, who was smirking in dangerous glee. It seems like it had been aeons since he had the thrill of battle running up his spinal struts; the release of his frustration on nameless, faceless thugs was like reuniting with an overclocking program from his heyday. Cracking his newly acquired energy whip, Knockout made a taunting gesture at the rogues, who all but willingly obliged the beckoning, charging all at once at the medic. 

Neither Knockout or the miscreants had noticed Predaking's regaining of senses, nor the magma-hot fire blast that welled up through the mechadragon's throat. Predaking released a ferocious roar, along with his breath, unforgiving flames enveloping his attackers and turning them into screaming, melting piles of slag. 

Knockout flinched away from the heat wave that washed over him, but was relieved that the assailants had been taken care of. He discarded his whip and subspaced his shock rod before turning to Predaking, who was still writhing under the remaining control lines. The dragon snarled weakly, clawing at the ground, staring at Knockout with unknown intent.

"It's alright, big guy! You probably don't even remember me. I'm not here to hurt you," Knockout said as soothingly as he could, holding his empty hands up to the huge beast, who lashed his tail in agitation. Knockout took that as a sign he could approach, and when he got close enough, he deactivated the remaining control lines, yanking them off Predaking's body. Predaking let out a low sound akin to a whine, laying his body and head back down to the ground, obviously having been sapped of strength and energy. 

//Ratchet, I could use that ground bridge about now.//

\\\Oh, and here I thought you had gone and offlined yourself, considering you hadn't returned my fifteen pages! You better have a fragging good excuse for whatever you're up to, Knockout!\\\

Knockout snorted when Ratchet's comm cut off, and the spinning green whorl of a ground bridge opened up some meters away from his location. He pulled on one of Predaking's shoulder spikes, grunting as the Predacon resisted momentarily, then lifted his ponderous weight up, wings dragging the ground, as they headed to the escape portal. 

"Come on, big guy, let's get you some medical attention."

 

Among the few humans that were able to travel to Cybertron, co-existing with the titan mechanoids, were two female freelancers, one technician and one engineer, who "helped" keep relations between Cybertron and Earth smooth. One of the two was currently standing on an overhead bridge, watching Ratchet activate the ground bridge within the facility. 

"I heard some ruckus about Knockout being in trouble," the second female, the technician, said, shuffling up behind her friend to lean over the catwalk's railing. 

"Yeah, bringin' a visitor, too, it seems," Engineer said, watching the swirling lime green gate below. Soon enough, there was a blurr of emerging figures, and humans and bots alike shared a stutter in their respiration systems.

"Holy shit, that's Predaking," Engineer said, and Technician laughed quietly. It was cut short, though, when they realized how bad of shape Predaking was in, the giant dragon managing to clear the ground bridge before collapsing with a teeth-rattling thunk on the floor. Ratchet powered off the bridge, hesitant in approaching, but moved swiftly once Knockout called desperately for his help. 

"You there, get the mobile emergency kit! We're not going to get him into the medibay like this!" Ratchet shouted, pointing authoritatively at a few vehicons that had been loitering about, supposedly helping him with monitoring systems. "Drones these days..."

"Ratchet, he was under fire from rogue bots, and they were using high performance energy restraints and rods on him. I thought they wouldn't effect him that much, but they managed to injure him," Knockout said hurriedly, trying not to let the overwhelming stress of emergency take over his processes. While he may have been a doctor, the rareness of severe procedures let his insecurities bloom at the wrong times.

"He's leaking energon everywhere," Ratchet said, half concerned, half annoyed. Leave it to Knockout, ex-Decepticon, to bring home the one creature that had tried to wipe out both their factions in an attempt at pest control. 

//It hurts.//

"Shh," Knockout whispered unconsciously, stroking Predaking's enormous horned head before running his hand down the dragon's neck, looking for further damage. He converted his forearm scanner, running it up and down the mech's body, attentively looking for where he was leaking. 

"Can't risk a transformation, might cause things to worsen," Ratchet advised, motioning for the vehicons who were running back into the room with supplies to join his side. Useless seeming at times, the vehicons were helpful at the right moments. One attached monitoring equipment to Predaking, who snorted in disdain, while the other set out tools in case damage control was necessary. 

"Here," Knockout said, gesturing to a section of scorched armor, scanner having given him an alert and report. "Looks like one of the restraints got caught in a joint and severed the exo-layer."

"Right. We'll need a thermal scalpel, nanite paste and dermal patching," Ratchet said, looking at his new vehicon helper, who reacted with a nod, handing the medic the proper tools. Knockout, meanwhile, turned and went back to Predaking's head, giving the dragonformer another hopefully soothing pet behind his horns. 

"The damage is superficial, but could develop into something worse if we don't take care of it right now. Good thing I came along to save your tail, hm?" Knockout said with a small smirk, the golden eye that was staring at him relaying no emotion. Predaking snorted softly, before stretching out accordingly, allowing Ratchet to get to his vulnerable side more easily. 

"Try not to move too much."

\--

The procedure went well, Knockout taking care of the minute details of patching Predaking up, while Ratchet was more suitable for the deeper work. A minor fuel line was replaced; jagged edges where the energy line had cut were shaved down, much to Predaking's annoyance, and the dermal patch was laid down with an artist's touch.

"It'll do for now, but as for Predaking's recovery..." Ratchet said, trailing off as he looked toward the head of the huge mech, who had turned just enough to eye both the ambulance and speedster. "No one's going to like it, but you're going to have to take it easy for a while. I don't know how you managed to get caught by rogue bots, but you can't run the risk of being captured again and getting yourself hurt more, or worse, offlined. I take it you've probably recovered your strength by now and have been waiting to transform?"

Without a word, the dragonformer stood before his figure rippled and folded, the enormous beast folding and compressing into his bipedal form. Predaking's strong, vicious visage stood for a good half second before he arched forward, wincing and growling as he cupped a hand to his side. 

"I thank you for your assistance, Ratchet. I will... heed your advice. This is neither the place nor the time for explanations, but I believe I will take refuge in your stronghold, if you would allow it," Predaking growled, looking at Ratchet earnestly before glancing at Knockout. 

"Er, of course," Ratchet said, also sparing a look at Knockout, who had a strain of perplexion to his expression. "Be mindful, though, I'm sure not everyone will have the same courtesy as we have."

"That, I understand," Predaking said through pain-gritted denta, nodding his departure as he turned and strode away, returning to his proud, straight backed posture. 

"Not even a thanks!" Knockout said once Predaking was out of the Ops bay, throwing his arms up. "After all, I did save his scaly hide and even had the mind to bring him to safety. What is the world coming to when a mindful medic can't even get some notice?"

"Seems he still likes ol' Ratch a little more," Engineer said from on high, smirking as both bots looked up, surprised they had an audience. 

"Don't take it to heart, Knockout, I'm sure his rude-ass is grateful but can't admit it. Such is the way of men," Technician said knowledgeably.

"Pff, I'm sure he's appreciative of me just as much," Ratchet said, shaking his head. "Either way, Knockout, keep an eye on him after we clean up. Who knows what could possibly set him off in this place. I suppose I can forgive your running off today, seeing as how it led to the rescue of an ally," Ratchet grumbled under his breath. 

"My sincerest thanks, doctor," Knockout said with a small bow, internally relieved he wouldn't be subject to Ratchet's lectures regarding duties. Smiling to himself for the moment, he turned to help the vehicons pack up tools and return them to the medibay.

\--

After having been deemed complete with his duties for the cycle, Knockout took off to find Predaking. Asking a few working vehicons and Smokescreen in passing, he quickly found his way to the experimental organic gardens that were being grown in the facility by the staff of the interstellar cruiser Core. 

Initially started as a genetic experiment to combine plants with energon, the gardens had grown out of hand. Trees that were a normal Earth size had grown taller than Knockout, and other various benign alien flora had taken root in energon enhanced soil, growing into the most amazing specimens that Knockout had ever seen. Any mech who had been to the gardens would have been lying if they said they didn't like the place.

Walking through secure doors, Knockout relished the feel of clean oxygen venting into his system, compared to the scrubbed air throughout the rest of the facility that kept the humans alive and Cybertronians running. Simulated sunlight warmed his armor and relaxed his frame as he strode through the gardens, mindful of his steps as he avoided brightly colored plant life that were accented by neon-like veins. It wasn't Earth, the mudball he had somehow come to appreciate, but it was nice to have soft sod under his pedes for once.

Predaking's path wasn't hard to miss - flora bent and broken, trodden upon as the great mech had strayed from the main path. Knockout followed it for some time, before stopping just at the edge of a clearing, surrounded by thick-leafed trees. Predaking had sat down beneath a particularly large tree, seemingly normal against his enormous frame, and was reclined with his optics shuttered, a hand resting over his wounded side.

"Hello, doctor," Predaking rumbled after a long moment of silence, slitting his eyes open and looking at Knockout with blazing gold irises. Knockout lifted a brow ridge, resting his fists on his cocked hips. "I see that Ratchet assigned you to monitoring me."

"Something like that. It was not my intention to monitor you, but I am, as a medic, to keep tabs on the well being of my patients," Knockout countered. "Although, yes, he was a bit concerned about the well being of the facility with your, ah, esteemed presence."

"I will not act in heinous conduct in a place that houses innocents," Predaking said quietly, shifting with a wince as he sat up. "Outside of that, I owe you thanks, doctor, for coming to my rescue." 

Knockout dared to approach the other mech, walking slowly and gauging Predaking's demeanor. The Predacon did not seem to mind his presence, more concerned with his injury, which most surely was in full blazing agony right then. If there was one thing Knockout was familiar with, was the pain after a fight, after battle instincts backed down and other senses came to fore. 

"They tricked me," Predaking said, voice strained with annoyance, "with a fake Predacon shell. It was bait, appearing to be another Predacon in duress, and it was far too late when they ambushed me, striking me down with those awful weapons. I feel like such a fool!" He slammed a clenched fist into the ground, making Knockout jump slightly in surprise.

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself. We all have our moments," Knockout said, waving his hands dismissively. "We all make mistakes."

"Mistakes that could cost one's life? I should have been able to fight my way out, slagging fool, to rend their shells lifeless," Predaking sighed, berating himself. "I feel that, after that farce, I have even more reason to return to seclusion. If there are such worthless, honorless scrapheaps, trophy hunters, trash, that would take advantage of my brethren or myself, then why not?"

"Hey!" Knockout said, riled up at Predaking's behavior. It was at times hard to remember the mech was still young, still so very young compared to himself, and the display before him was primo youngling attitude. "You dare to call yourself a king, and here you are, wanting to run away because of some punks who caught you off guard? Instead of sitting there feeling sorry for yourself, you should be proud you survived, and take that to the field. There are dishonest, honorless aftheads out there, but that doesn't mean you can't do something about it."

Predaking's optics widened as Knockout sat across from him, red optics boring into his in his seriousness. The small speedster was bold, he gave Knockout that, talking at him as if he were an equal. Predaking supposed, though, Knockout had a point, and allowed him to keep talking, listening carefully. 

"Look, I haven't been an Autobot long, and I have my own slate of deviance in my past, but over the last stellar-cycle I've learned a lot. There's always room to better oneself, and the world around you. You can't just turn your back on things because there's a few glitches out to make your day bad," Knockout said, subtly surprised he was spilling such words out of his mouth. Apparently he had taken more of the Autobots' tenets to spark than he had thought. 

"Hm," was all Predaking said, leaning back against the tree he was under, looking at Knockout thoughtfully. Knockout folded under the unbroken gaze, glancing away and clearing his throat before moving to sit on his knees, closer to Predaking. With unspoken permission, Knockout brought his scanner back out, going in to check on the other mech's wound, making sure everything had stayed put during transformation and mobility. 

"You're welcome, by the way," Knockout said after what seemed an eternity of silence, tapping in some notes on his scanner's touch pad. "I couldn't just stand by while you were in danger."

Predaking smiled, just slightly, before nodding and shuttering his optics once more, falling into comfortable silence as Knockout sat beside him.


	2. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beast makes a move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's short.

It was some time later, Predaking having wandered off on his own with Knockout's approval, that the red racer signed off with Ratchet and made his way to his quarters. He very nearly tripped over the object that had been placed at the foot of his door, the medic having immediate confusion as to why there was a hand-sized chunk of raw white crystal at his threshold. 

"What the..." Knockout picked up the item, looking it over before glancing up and down the hall outside his quarters, frowning when he saw no culprit to suspect. A dropped belonging, perhaps, or something left behind by a lazy vehicon? Knockout sighed, not willing to put forward the process of figuring out the mysterious rock, tucking it under his arm and entering his room, intent on getting a few hours of recharge before next shift. 

\--

The mysterious items continued to show up at his doorstep in the days that followed, dissolving the speculation that it had been an accident. The second day it was a cluster of purple stone, the third day found a handful of strange metallic parts with gold patina that Knockout had absolutely no use for. It was random junk, seemingly, all holding one similarity, that it was shiny and pretty, and that it was being left at Knockout's door by some unknown individual. 

"If this keeps up, I'm going to have to get a storage cache for all this stuff," Knockout moaned quietly to Ratchet, who was staring indifferently at his fellow medic. "I don't know who is doing it, nor why, but I really do wish they would stop. As much as I enjoy the idea of a fanclub, I can't keep collecting this stuff in my berth," the red racer said, dropping his latest acquisition, an orb of unknown whitish metal, shined to the highest gloss, before Ratchet.

"Seems someone's got it out for you in amorous attention," Ratchet said, picking up the orb and examining it, optics and tactile sensors trying to figure out what the ore was. "Considering they just gave you a chunk of pure mithril, I think whoever your mysterious gifter is trying to get your attention."

"Wrong way of doing it," Knockout sighed, leaning on the empty examination table. The medibay was quiet, the two doctors alone for once, having been going over the latest medical and science data that was dredged up from Cybertron's information banks. 

"Not much for trinkets, eh?" Ratchet asked with a smirk, rolling the orb of mithril in his hands, enjoying it's deceiving weight. "I suppose you should start from the obvious point, and recall if there was anyone who you recently interacted with that would be doing this."

Knockout put his chin in his hand, staring at Ratchet plaintively, processor knocking through everyone who he had spent time with in the last week. Outside of vehicons, Ratchet himself, and Smokescreen, the only prominent individual that stood out was...

"Oh, you have /got/ to be kidding me," Knockout said, slapping his claws over his optics and groaning.

"HAH," Ratchet chuffed out, unusually loud. "Apparently Predaking shares some of the tendencies of Earth's mythological creatures. How grossly darling of him," Ratchet said, masking his mirth. He rolled the orb of mithril back to Knockout, who let it hit his elbow before picking it up. 

"Not a /word/ about this to anyone, Ratchet," Knockout said with a frown, taken over by perplexed feelings and confusion. "Or I'll take this orb and shove it up your actuator, you old rustpile." 

"Physician's honor," Ratchet said, chuckling as Knockout turned and made his way out of the medibay. Once the doors closed, the old medic leaned back, smiling and shaking his head. He would keep quiet about it, but if there had been one particular mech he would have gossiped with, he wasn't there to hear about it.

"Oh, Optimus," Ratchet murmured, turning and looking out through the reinforced sky window, at the stars and moons that orbited Cybertron, "I hope you see what's become of us, old friend. I hope you're happy." Ratchet shuttered his optics with a faint grin, sighing in some sense of warm joy. 

\--

Predaking, not having been given permission by medical approval to leave the facility, had spent most of his time raiding the information databases, snatching data pads that were full of interesting things, mostly on the history of Cybertron and studies of hierarchical rule that eventually led to the planet's downfall. 

Sitting once more in the experimental gardens and deeply enmeshed in a volume covering the X War with Velocitron, Predaking nearly missed the approach of another mech. It was when something thunked beside his sitting area did he look up, frowning at being interrupted, but the expression softened when he saw who it was.

"Why are you leaving stuff outside my door?" Knockout said immediately, pointing at the orb of mithril he had dropped beside Predaking. The racer's armor had fluffed out some in his agitation regarding the unwarranted displays of affection as well as the slight fear of facing Predaking head-on about it. 

"Ah," Predaking balked, optics glancing away from Knockout. So, he had been found out. He had not planned to be caught so early, still unsure of how he was going to go about asking Knockout for friendship. "I see I have been discovered."

"As interestingly cute the gesture is, I don't see why a simple "thank you" would suffice," Knockout said, crossing his arms. "Don't get me wrong, these things are nice, but if there's something you're trying to tell me, I would appreciate it more if you said it, instead."

"My apologies, Knockout. I was only doing what I felt was right at the time," Predaking said, subspacing his data pad before picking up the orb of mithril and standing, coming to tower over the red racer, who looked up at him inquisitively. Predaking expirated quietly before coming to one knee, more on Knockout's level, and presented the orb of mithril to the racer within the tips of his claws. 

"I respect you for your profession, doctor, that saved my life, by chance or not, and I have been thinking since then, that I desire to come to your side. Those words you gave me on that first day have been running through my mind, and you were right; there is nothing of gain in being alone. In short, I would like to be your friend."

Knockout felt his spark race and his frame heat up at the strange presentation. Predaking was noble in thought and action, and it was jarring to see such a formal question for something that was supposed to happen naturally. Predaking was just too pure at times. The racer laughed quietly, taken aback, and thought about it for a split second.

"You have a weird way of doing things, but I can't turn down such a sparkfelt offer. I suppose that's part of your charm," Knockout said, reaching up and taking the orb of mithril once more, looking at it in new appreciation. It was the first time since his joining the Autobots that someone had made an effort to be a /friend/ to him. Ratchet didn't count - they got along well enough from working together, but he knew the Autobot medic still had his doubts about him. 

"You accept?" Predaking rumbled, a smile quirking the corners of his lips. "I am delighted, Knockout. It is not only you, though, but it seems there is a lot more I can learn from aligning myself with your people."

"I'm sure they'll be just as excited to have you," Knockout said, thinking about how well Ratchet was going to react to the news. Better to have a dragon at one's side than on the opposing side.

"Well, friend, now that that's settled, I think it's about time for one last check-up to see if you're ready to go back on active duty!" Knockout said, smiling as Predaking rose to his full height, nodding in agreement. Placing the orb of mithril in a safe sub-pocket, Knockout strode forward with a new confidence, feeling on top of the world with his new powerful companion thumping along behind him.


	3. Realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short again x)
> 
> Indra headbutted his way in.

"He seems sincere enough, and without the threat of a supported army, he could be a great asset," Indra said from where he sat across from Ratchet and Ultra Magnus. Knockout was seated to the side, having been the one to bring up the news of a sudden new addition to their forces. 

"It's still a possible risk, but one we must take for now. With increasing activity of returning Cybertronians who are vying for power already, and no established government or leading system, everyone and everything is vulnerable," Magnus said, rubbing at his chin. At the moment he was technically the highest ranking Autobot on the planet, but need for re-establishing stability outweighed the need for a Magnus figure. 

"Until we are able to find out if Omega Supreme or if any of the 'plexes are still online, I say yes to Predaking's involvement with our activities. Alliances and enemies are made on the fly, and you all know that well by now. As long as we keep Predaking happy, which he seems to be with Knockout's presence and acceptance by the others, I see no problem with him. Perhaps even one day he could earn his own contingent for the security of Cybertron," Indra said, looking from Magnus to Ratchet, who nodded. 

"Then I will vote yes for the motion. Predaking will remain under Knockout's supervision until he is fit for duty, and we will go from there," Ultra Magnus said, nodding his head in finality before standing up, dismissing the others. 

Indra was picked up by Ratchet, who followed Knockout out of the meeting room. The small humanoid alien Captain of the Core had become somewhat of a huge help in negotiating and mediating for Cybertron's restoration, the Core itself and its staff assisting in the planet's healing. 

"You can breathe now," Indra said with a grin towards Knockout. The red racer's shoulders slumped as he released a nervous expirate. 

"I didn't know getting a new friend would turn into bureaucratic act," Knockout said, rubbing at his helm. 

"Despite his help with recovering the Well, Predaking has been on our minds since then," Ratchet said as they walked toward the Ops center. "It seems a fortuitous event that you saved him." 

"Not to mention who wouldn't want a huge dragon on their side of things," Indra said excitedly. For an aged war veteran, he got excited about some strange things, giant robots and dragons included, it seemed. The captain was carefully dropped off on a catwalk once Ratchet entered the Ops bay, Indra giving him a lazy salute as a goodbye before having to return to his own ship. 

Unsurprisingly, Predaking was in the bay, pacing slowly with his hands tucked behind his back. The vehicons who were monitoring message and report centers were at ease with his presence, much to Ratchet's enjoyment. The more the vehicons worked, the less he had to stress about. 

"Knockout, Ratchet, how did it go?" Predaking asked in anticipation once he saw his two medic companions. Knockout was the first to respond, throwing his arms in the air towards Predaking. 

"Fantastically. Ultra Magnus agreed that you can stay with us, and Captain Indra vouched for you, even though you two hardly know each other," Knockout said. "You are free to come and go as you wish."

"AFTER you get medical clearance," Ratchet said, waving his hands in a shooing manner at Predaking, who willingly began to head toward the medical center. 

\--

Thinking about the past was the worst time-waster. Knockout thought he had managed to get past Breakdown, the loss of his dear companion and assistant, but the memories liked to surface now and then to kick him in the aft at the worst of times. No one really got over such a thing, especially with what had become of Breakdown after his offlining. 

"Disgusting piece of slag human," Knockout growled as he ramped up the heat on his cutting torch, having no mercy on the Cybertronian terrain vehicle he was scrapping out for parts. He gripped and wrenched off a chunk of metal, throwing it over his shoulder and going back to work on cutting off the vehicle's armored plating, which would be smelted into new creations. 

"We're not all bad," a voice came, and Knockout slammed his head on the roof of the vehicle he was waist deep in out of surprise. Grumbling and rubbing his helm, he pulled off his brazing goggles, looking up to the catwalk that Indra was currently standing on. 

"You're not human, though," Knockout argued, cutting his torch off and deciding a break was acceptable, even if it was to distract him from his train of thought. He stretched and leaned back, sitting on the remains of the vehicle's chassis. "Come to think of it, I don't really even know what you are."

"True, but I once was considered something along the lines of human," Indra said, eerie green eyes trailing over the scorched and wrecked remains of the Cybertronian transport unit. Knockout was doing a good job, the medic having a knack for taking things apart as well as putting them together again. "I truly thank you for the effort of supplying the Core with essential materials. Ratchet and I assume it will not take too long for us to restore the New Iacon center for habitation." 

"No problem," Knockout shrugged. "It keeps me busy, as exciting as manning Ops every day can be," he said, sarcasm thick. "I suppose the idea of my own quarters is a bit of motivation as well," he said, pushing his toe against the side paneling of the vehicle, which gave an unexpected clank and fell off, both mech and captain wincing at the jarring sound it made when it hit the floor.

"Expecting something bigger for your, ah, expanding collection of gifts?" Indra prodded with a smirk, and Knockout rolled his optics at the captain. Apparently news of Predaking's affections had spread a bit more than he expected. "I'll let you get back to work then. Thank you, again." 

"You're welcome," Knockout said airily, nodding as Indra turned and departed. 

\--

"It feels like it has been ages since that procedure," Predaking said once he had returned to his bipedal form, Knockout standing by. The Predacon had gone into beast mode for one last examination, and his substantial wound had patched up nicely. 

"Tell me about it. At least I can finally green-flag your status now, which is a huge relief," Knockout said as he tapped the readout display of his forearm scanner, paging through and signing off on a few notes that had accumulated from his inbox, before getting to Predaking's inquiry, happily tagging him fit for duty. 

"It is nice to know someone cares," Predaking said simply, showing a rare, small smile to Knockout. The red racer felt his frame warm, and he nodded in response. 

"Well, now that you're here, I suppose finding you a proper place to operate would be to your benefit, when you're not on watch or aerial patrol. The vehicons pretty much have everything under control with the Autobots' help, so something more administrative would help us greatly," Knockout explained, gesturing for Predaking to follow him, the great mech falling in beside his companion without a word. 

"I do not have, ah, much experience with administrative matters, but I am willing to learn," Predaking offered quietly, folding his hands behind his back. Despite his underlying need for superiority, being with Knockout made him feel useful. It seemed after all the time he had spent alone on Cybertron, discovering its recovering wonders, he had been lacking something important: company. The want to have a companion had grown in his spark for some time, and at last it was being fulfilled. 

"I'm sure you're learn whatever it is in no time! As much as I would love to have a new lab assistant, you're not quite, uh..."

"The right size? I do not think anyone would be comfortable for one such as myself to be hovering over them during medical procedures," Predaking chuckled to himself, imagining such a scenario. "I am a bit terrifying."

"Just a skosh," Knockout said, grinning up at Predaking, who smirked. "Well, you're a big guy, and you're obviously interested in reading, and we don't have many volunteers for the data archive recovery, so would that be a thing you'd be interested in doing? I mean you'd have no problem getting to those top shelves."

"Truthfully, I think that would be interesting to pursue. It always perplexed me that there was no keeper in that part of the facility," Predaking said. 

"For as many vehicons and volunteers we have, we just don't have the staff for everything yet. Balancing out what needs to be done and what can wait has been a bit of a headache," Knockout said, rubbing his helm in memory of the lengthy discussions the Autobots had gone through, trying to figure out who would go where and what had priority. It was not easy, regaining a planet and trying to figure out how to make things work. 

"Would I not be more suited for manual labor? I do not mind getting my claws dirty. I overheard Bulkhead the other day, talking about the difficulties of construction and the need for more constructibots," Predaking said thoughtfully, looking down at Knockout.

"True, you have the strength for it, but you're not built like a drone. Vehicons are easy to format with engineering data so they know what they're doing and get it done fast. I... think it would be a complete travesty to lower your processes for something such as that," Knockout said as they entered the Ops bay. Ratchet was busy as usual, tapping away at his substantial holopads and message centers. Less the doctor and more the communications officer these days, Knockout mused. 

"Then again, Ratchet might benefit from another helper," Knockout grinned, knowing that would get the medic's attention. Blue optics blazed at him accompanied by a frown, and Knockout couldn't resist chuckling.

"After I /just/ got the vehicons into a normal schedule, I don't need another helper, seeing how much good the one I have now is," Ratchet bit back, looking at Knockout pointedly. The red racer gave his best charming smile as he shrugged. "In all seriousness, Ops is covered well enough. I take it you're looking for something Predaking can do?"

"Yes, and I seem to have many options before me. I would not mind assisting you, Ratchet, if it would help you. Knockout seems to think I am most suited for taking care of the data archives," Predaking said proudly. "I have come to the conclusion that an existence with one directive is redundant under certain circumstances, and that if I am to inhabit Cybertron, then I must be part of reclaiming it."

Both Ratchet and Knockout were a bit taken aback at Predaking's words, but it was Ratchet who nodded in agreement first. 

"Any willing help is accepted, Predaking. It's hard enough as it is to try and figure things out with our limited staff and trying to recover enough data to try and establish order. I really do appreciate the gesture," Ratchet said, tone sparkfelt. Predaking dipped his head in understanding, right before an incoming message tone rang through the center.

"This is Ratchet," the medic said once he established connection.

"Ratch, it's Smokescreen! We're getting hit hard in sector 225 and we need backup. These aren't just any junkyard dogs, they're real pirates!" The young warrior's voice cracked through the Ops center, Ratchet looking immediately at Knockout and Predaking when backup was mentioned. 

"Smokescreen, I'm sending Predaking and Knockout to rendezvous with you. I will alert Indra to see if he can give us air support if needed," Ratchet said before cutting the line. "If there's any time for you to help us, this is it, Predaking," he said direly, looking at the Predacon desperately.

"My pleasure, Ratchet," Predaking grinned, stepping back before twisting into his dragon form with a roar. The vehicons in the room jumped and screamed in surprise, having near system failures from the dragon's noise, but readily went back to work after realizing there was no threat. 

"Well, not like I was planning on doing anything right now, anyway," Knockout said as Ratchet keyed in coordinates for a ground bridge. He went to shift into car mode, but was stopped by Predaking sidling up to him.

//Mount me. It will be faster to fly.//

"Are you serious?" Knockout said in disbelief, jumping into action when Predaking growled at him. He clambered on to the dragon's neck quickly, giving Ratchet a thumb's up to open the bridge. Ratchet was staring in mild disbelief at the scene before him before keying open the bridge, the two mechs darting through it to their destination.

Ratchet was starting to wonder about his future for the amount of strange things he had witnessed this week.


	4. Collision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot which fic it was that had the vehicons having human names, but I remember it being a super good one.

The appearance of Knockout riding a mechadragon was like some kind of mythical tale Smokescreen had heard from Alpha Trion. The red racer was wielding his shock rod like a lance, taking out the first enemy he saw as Predaking spat flame at another, the two in concert for a moment. Knockout soon jumped off Predaking's back, the dragon taking flight and going after the aerial bots that were raining laser fire down on the Autobots. 

"Sitrep?" Knockout asked, crouching down beside Smokescreen, who had taken cover beside a crumbling wall. 

"There's a good contingent of them, and they came out of nowhere. Scouting party was taken out, and the rest of us have been holding them back. They're after one of the energon founts," Smokescreen said, pointing towards said object, that was being guarded by a few mechs with rifles. "They have a ship above, but none of us can reach it, obviously," the said, pointing up, and Knockout gave a slight nod before contacting Predaking.

"Predaking, there's a ship in the air where these guys are coming from. See if you can't take it down while we take care of the ground force," Knockout said, getting a nonverbal affirmation. He gave Smokescreen a nod before the two spun out from behind their protection, pistols ablaze and Knockout charging ahead to take control with his melee weapon. 

There did seem to be a lot of them, all of them faceless drones of warrior class. Knockout let his instinctual fighting actions become his processes, giving debilitating and incapacitating blows where they needed to go. Some would live to be interrogated, and some would die that day.

"They're converging on the fount!" Smokescreen's comm crackled into his audios, and Knockout spared a glance to the station, which was quickly being overcome by the pirates. Transforming, the red racer sped towards the fount, taking out a few ankles of their enemy in the process with his front fender. 

"Heads up!"

The anonymous cry didn't go unnoticed, as an audio-splitting noise came from above, and everyone took a moment to look upward, where the command ship was falling from the sky, lit aflame by Predaking's efforts. 

//I doubt they will survive the landing,// Predaking's private comm rang in Knockout's head, the medic surprised when the mech's massive form landed beside him. A simple swipe of his tail took out several of the pirates, and he crunched one in his jaws before spitting another line of flame at more. Predaking was impressive, and not failing his mission, much to Knockout's destructive glee. 

Smokescreen ran up beside the two, pistols taking out another two pirates, before he helped a fellow Autobot up, re-establishing a protective barricade between the last of the invaders and the energon fount. 

"I guess things are gonna get a lot easier with you around," Smokescreen said giddily as he looked up at Predaking, who huffed with a nod. He appreciated the young Autobot, having gotten to know him in the last week of his recovery within their base. Smokescreen's enthusiasm was infectious, it seemed. 

Soon enough, with the command ship a crashed, burning pile of scrap on the ground, and forces being picked off quickly with teamwork, the fighting petered out, the area quietening once more. 

"I'll start checking on the injured," Knockout said as he collapsed and subspaced his weapons, hurrying over to the nearest fallen soldier. Predaking hovered nearby as a guard, letting the Autobots outgun and capture their foes. Meanwhile, Smokescreen patched in to Ratchet, reporting of the new status and that things had turned out for the best. The fount had been secured, and vehicons were being bridged out to the location to begin construction of a siphon converter. 

"Good job," Smokescreen said, smiling up at Predaking. The dragon rumbled in what seemed to be a happy reply, but did not stray from keeping an alert eye out for his companions. 

No one expected it, seeing it too late, when a small group of pirates came out of nowhere, having hidden away during the firefight. Blasters blazing, they all yelled in crude Cybertronian, closing in fast and hard on the nearest mech, which happened to be Knockout. 

"Look out!" Smokescreen shouted, flipping out his pistols and returning fire. Knockout's cry of pain was at the forefront of both he and Predaking's processes, which incited an unforgivable fury in Predaking. The dragon turned around, throat alight with his breath attack, and he released it at full power, decimating the few pirate mechs that had dared to surprise them. 

"Slagging slag!" Knockout was shouting in pain, laying on his back with his leg hiked up in the air. His hands clawed the space around his ankle strut, unable to touch the wound, a fireblast having caught him right in the soft spot. Predaking was beside him in an instant, transforming to bipedal mode and kneeling beside his friend. 

"Knockout, be still! Smokescreen, tell Ratchet to send more vehicons for retrieving the wounded. I will take Knockout," Predaking said decisively, the warrior mech across from him nodding before queuing up his comm. 

"Idiot! I should have been paying attention!" Knockout winced as Predaking picked him up, arms beneath his shoulders and knees, and carried him toward the nearby ground bridge that was filtering out support vehicons. 

"Hush, Knockout. We all make mistakes," Predaking said, getting a pointed glare at the sudden reversal of advice sharing. "It is my turn to return the favor of helping."

\--

Knockout looked absolutely miserable from where he laid on the examination table in the medical bay. After having been temporarily patched up, he had opted to be last for repairs, the other injured Autobots going before him. It had been slow going, but between Ratchet and the few vehicons that had been given medical training, the medibay was cleared out to the point where Knockout could be attended to. Predaking was leaned against the wall, eyes unable to leave the image of his friend and Ratchet working on him.

"Nothing unrepairable, but it looks like you're going to be out of action for a while," Ratchet reported quietly as he gently tightened tension cables beneath Knockout's shell. "The support struts were damaged, but were easily replaced. You'll have a limp, but hopefully it will work out in time."

"Fantastic. Just when we thought we were getting things in order, /this/ happens," Knockout said, pressing his hands over his optics with a sigh. 

"Well, at least your finish was mostly unscathed," Ratchet said with a smirk, getting a look from Knockout. "I'll reassign you to the archives for a while, on light duty, so you can show Predaking the ropes."

"I would enjoy that," Predaking said from the other side of the room, reminding the two medics he was still there. The idea of spending more time with Knockout was great, but under the circumstances, it was a setback for Ratchet, he knew. 

"Since standing around in Ops is hard as it is, I suppose it can't be helped," Knockout said with a shrug, wincing as he sat up and hung his legs over the edge of the table. He gingerly set his wounded foot to the ground, gasping at the shooting pain that wracked up his entire leg. Knockout found himself shuttering his optics in anticipation of falling, but reopened them when he felt huge hands cupped under his arms, supporting him. He looked up at Predaking, who was frowning in concern, and smiled disarmingly. 

"I suppose I should take it slow on that one," Knockout said, hearing Ratchet's aggrivated sigh behind him. 

\--

Reassignment to archives wasn't so bad. He had two helping vehicons, who had let themselves be known as Cruz and Robert, and Predaking with him to keep him busy. Knockout wasn't well versed in archive keeping, but he supposed organizing everything by date first wouldn't be too difficult. That was, until he saw the massive amount of data that needed separating, categorizing and dating. 

"Now I know why there was such a dedicated, prestigious force behind the archives so long ago," Knockout said as he slotted a data pad into the right spot, Predaking quietly following his example on the higher shelves. 

"I have been thinking," Predaking said, checking the title and number on his next data pad before putting it away, "why don't we get ladders, so you and the vehicons can reach the top shelves."

Knockout paused for a moment, caught in the absurd simplicity of the idea. No one had really put too much thought into the archives, other than erecting a hall for them and shelves for the data pads, and a database console for research. Everything else had been an afterthought.

"Well, duh," Knockout said, looking up at Predaking, who shrugged slightly. "I'll see if Cruz and Robert can acquire us one." 

"Actually acquire, or acquisition and relocate from another part of the base, inciting someone's ire?" Predaking asked, chuckling to himself in his quiet mirth. Knockout nudged him in the hip with his elbow, forcing him to move out of the way so the racer could get by.

"It's not my fault that people don't label or install items permanently," Knockout said innocently, rolling his optics. 

\--

Despite his moments of superiority complex, Predaking was docile with the two medics. He treated Magnus with respect, but with Knockout and Ratchet, it was different. Especially Knockout. The great dragonformer would dip his bestial head to the tiny red mech, allowing Knockout to ask him how his day had gone, and stroke his horns affectionately. In bipedal mode, he let Knockout walk by his side like an equal instead of striding ahead on long legs. 

Ratchet didn't have to be an expert in mech behavior to know Predaking was fond of Knockout - in more ways than one.

"Hey, doc bot, how's it hangin'?" 

Ratchet was shaken out of his processes, turning blue optics toward the speaker. Wheeljack's smirking, scarred face looked back at him, and the medic shook his head. 

"It is, how they would say, hanging loosely. There hasn't been a peep since the pirate raid, thank Primus, and progress is going as smoothly as it possibly can," Ratchet replied quietly, looking back to the display screen that seemed to be his life now. His optics almost ached from how long he had been at it for the day. 

"Yet things can't run smoothly with someone who's not rested properly," Wheeljack said, patting Ratchet gently on his pauldron. "Come on, doc, the in-box will still be there when you wake up." 

Ratchet gave a long look at Wheeljack, recognizing something very familiar in his concern, before blanking his work screen with a nod. 

"Right. Say, Wheeljack, you have a minute to grab a drink?"

\--

It was a few days later, while Knockout was still limping around the archive hall, that the red racer found himself really wanting that ladder Predaking had mentioned. He sighed and stared up at the higher shelves, tapping claws on his thigh as he hesitated on calling Predaking for his help. The big mech had been a great help the whole time they had been there, but he felt like he was being lazy having Predaking do everything that was above his height. 

The thought shot out of his head, though, when large, strong hands wrapped around his torso beneath his side grilles, lifting him up easily within range of the higher shelves.

"Not quite a ladder," Predaking rumbled in amusement, smirking when Knockout looked back at him. The racer looked a bit perturbed, laughing nervously, but went back to putting up his data pads. 

"Thank you," Knockout said, "it's nice to be tall once in a while," he chuckled, hoping to be put down soon, but Predaking kept him aloft for a moment, holding him near his chest. Knockout felt his throat calipers restrict nervously, feeling the mech's steady intake and expirate against the back of his neck. 

"Puh... Predaking? You can, uh, put me down now," Knockout chuckled quietly, feeling anxious static prickle up his spinal strut.

"I do not desire to, just yet," Predaking rumbled softly. "If it is alright with you, I would like to... keep you like this for a moment more."

Knockout felt his frame warm and his claws clenched around the datapad he held. He couldn't pinpoint why, but he smiled ridiculously out of sight of Predaking's gaze. 

"Sure."

\--

The displays of affection went from gifts to physical in the reset of an optic. Predaking was nigh inseparable from Knockout, from wake to rest. It was the small touches between the two, though, that titillated Ratchet; the gentle, near unnoticeable caresses Predaking gave Knockout in plain view of anyone who was watching. 

Another new development was that Knockout was talking more than his usual amount. Ratchet found it mildly disturbing yet deeply interesting to overhear his fellow medic recounting stories of his time with the Decepticons, things that Ratchet had only heard whispers of.

Ratchet held up outside of one of many recreation rooms, hearing Predaking's loud, bassy laughter break the silence. It was an unusual sound to hear, but not dislikable. 

"So Breakdown pulled me out of the refuse pit, and I was absolutely livid about having my finish wrecked, of course, and the first thing he asked was if I wanted help buffing! After that I folded into the Decepticons, and he was my friend and assistant from thereon," Knockout's voice came, and Ratchet could hear the strain of despair from the mech. Ratchet knew all too well the feeling of loss, an unspoken bond between he and Knockout.  
Carefully, Ratchet leaned to look into the room, finding Predaking sitting across from the red medic at a table, one reaching across and claws tenderly laid across the other mech's hand. Knockout had his other hand across his optics, posture looking more tired than anything. 

Glancing downward with a sigh, Ratchet turned and went back on with his business, hoping Wheeljack would return soon from his patrol. 

\--

"You know, with all the medical training and experiences we have, you never get used to the grief," Knockout said suddenly, once more laid out on Ratchet's examination table as the doctor carefully tended to his ankle strut. 

"It's what we must endure," Ratchet murmured, "what everyone must endure at times. No one's pain must be taken for granted, even though at times it feels as if ours, as medical specialists, outweighs everyone else." He shook his head, laying down another layer of nanite paste, going over it with a gentle torch heat to speed up its activation. 

"The only thing we can do, though," Ratchet said as he sat up, adjusting his monoptic as he looked over Knockout's ankle, "is remember the past, but not let it control us. We carry on as living testament to the fallen. We can only move on and live our lives for the ones who cannot." 

Knockout stared at the ceiling of the room for a while, until Ratchet pat his ankle, the jarring action giving him no pain, surprisingly enough. Ratchet was a master in his profession, Knockout marveled.

"You're such a wise old thing," Knockout said with a grin as he sat up. Ratchet rolled his optics as he put away his tools. "Thank you for reminding me what the important things are, though, and thanks for not scuffing my finish." 

"You're welcome, Knockout," Ratchet nodded, helping his companion up and off the table to stand and stretch his leg out experimentally. "By the way, ah... I mean, if you feel like you need to, you know you can talk to me about things, regardless the matter." 

"Of course," Knockout said, resting a hand on Ratchet's shoulder with a gentle squeeze. "Same for you, you know that."


End file.
